


Can't Fight the Moonlight

by Nuanta



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Nipple Play, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Black Eagles Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Teasing, Voice Kink, the only plot here is Hubert's master plan to get Ferdinand to stop working on politics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:22:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23076202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nuanta/pseuds/Nuanta
Summary: “My body may react, as is only natural,” Ferdinand proclaims, “but I assure you, my mind is ever-focused on this paper.”Hubert kisses the side of his neck; Ferdinand can feel him smile against his skin. “Is that a challenge?”
Relationships: Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra
Comments: 41
Kudos: 337





	Can't Fight the Moonlight

**Author's Note:**

> I've been sitting on the first 500 or so words of this fic for MONTHS and I finally went mad tonight and finished the darn thing, so of course I had to name it after a song I sang in eighth grade for my school's talent show, I don't make the rules, it's late, please just take this porn off my hands

Ferdinand hunches over his desk, his nose just a hair’s width over the freshly penned ink from his latest modifications to the Hrym taxation draft. He’s lost count of how many times he’s read through it; it’s of utmost importance that he gets this right after all the harm and suffering his father’s blunders caused.

The words are blurring together when a knock on the door startles him into an upright position before it sweeps open. The moment he sees Hubert in the doorway, though, he slumps back a little in his seat.

“Oh,” Ferdinand exhales when he takes stock of Hubert’s comfortable evening wear, dark and loose. “My apologies, love. I know it is getting late, but I am afraid I cannot join you in our chambers just yet.”

Hubert steps into his study anyways. “Are you still working on the Hrym piece?” he asks calmly, not yet judgmental. Ferdinand is stupidly grateful for that.

He still grimaces at the question itself. “Unfortunately. I keep finding errors, and I have to ensure it is nothing short of perfect when it is finally released.”

Hubert continues his forward march until he rounds Ferdinand’s desk and comes to stand directly behind his chair. Ferdinand’s breath sighs out of him when two palms fall upon his shoulders.

“You do not need to wait with me,” Ferdinand insists, a pang of guilt dropping down his stomach. “Please, go on to bed. I will join you as soon as I have this paper finalized.”

“I’d rather stay here and keep you company while you work,” Hubert says mildly.

“I am afraid this will be terribly boring for you.”

“I’m sure I’ll be quite all right.” He can hear the smile in Hubert’s voice. Then gloved fingers are weaving through his hair, effortlessly making their way to his scalp, massaging gently. Ferdinand takes a long breath. “Tell me, my sunlight, what’s ailing you tonight?”

Ferdinand can’t help but return the smile, however briefly. “Well, it started with trying to determine the most efficient means of redistributing Hrym’s wealth back to its people. Giving them the independence they deserve so as to thrive under their own power, but maintain an appropriate connection to the Empire.”

“A noble endeavor.”

“And yet.” Ferdinand taps his dry quill against one of the lengthier paragraphs. “To accomplish this, I drafted an extensive list of the resources Hrym territory has access to, with estimates of which would lead to the greatest excesses. These surpluses could be traded in for resources in which they are lacking.”

His hair is gently pulled and twisted, then swept over his left shoulder. “No doubt you’ve made a list of those resources as well.”

“Of course! Who do you think I am?” Ferdinand chides lightly.

“I know exactly who you are,” Hubert says. “You are Adrestia’s Prime Minister, beloved by all for your devotion to its people. You are a beam of sunshine working tirelessly to share that light with everyone you can reach.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Ferdinand sees the dark figure that is his lover bend over him, can feel the warm breath against his right ear as he speaks. Vaguely smells the hints of Hubert’s evening dark roast, a rich blend brewed specifically to drink at nightfall. Soft, supple leather strokes against his now-exposed nape, and his body shivers automatically.

“Oh?” Hubert chuckles low and directly into his ear, his lips brushing against the shell, and Ferdinand’s skin hums in response. “Might you also be longing for an excuse to take a break at last?”

Ferdinand firmly shakes his head, returns his concentration to the words on the pages beneath him. “I was not finished,” he says. “Finding the perfect balance between these resources is incredibly tedious. I must not rest until I can provide them with the absolute best result.”

“And I’ve no doubt that they will be endlessly grateful for your amazing work,” Hubert responds smoothly, still so close. His hands span across Ferdinand’s shoulders. Ferdinand knows how this goes. They’ll start there, gentle, easing, before they’ll travel lower— “But for all your words, your body seems to be telling a different story.”

He’s warm all over. It would be easy, welcome, to give in, to return with Hubert to their chambers, to partake in their nighttime activities. He can practically taste Hubert’s coffee on his lips, can practically feel those gloved fingers digging into his skin as their bodies press together—

No. He will not let the people of Hrym down ever again.

“My body may react, as is only natural,” Ferdinand proclaims, “but I assure you, my mind is ever-focused on this paper.”

Hubert kisses the side of his neck; Ferdinand can feel him smile against his skin. “Is that a challenge?”

Perhaps rather stupidly, Ferdinand answers, “If that is how you would like to see it,” because he doesn’t expect Hubert to relent at this point anyways—they both harbor fierce stubborn streaks—and he really does need to get this draft finished.

So he probably has it coming when the lips at his neck part to accommodate the wet lick of Hubert’s tongue, which then gives way to a gentle graze of teeth.

Ferdinand blinks away the gentle tickle and reaches for his ink. Hrym’s harvests have been one of their weakest points in recent years, due to the abundance of farmers forced to conscript and leave their pastures unattended. With the conscription law recently altered, they should be able to sufficiently reallocate their labor to—

He tenses and gasps as Hubert’s teeth sink into his skin, possessively tugging and worrying at the flesh. It’s just on the right side of painful, exactly the way he likes it, and heat curls low in his belly as Hubert sucks with bruising force. Ferdinand holds himself rigidly in place and waits with bated breath for what comes next.

What he gets is stillness.

“My, my, Ferdinand,” Hubert simpers. “I didn’t realize you would be finished with your work so quickly.”

His cheeks flush hotly. “Not at all,” he retorts. “There is still much to be done.”

Hubert’s tongue laves at the sensitive skin where he’d just left his mark. A mark Ferdinand will no doubt have to hide with a high collar during their meetings tomorrow, a mark that when he touches his fingers to his neck just so, he will be reminded of who he belongs to, who belongs to him.

Hubert prompts, “Such as?”

“Such as dismantling the forced labor my father subjected them to,” Ferdinand says, picking back up on his last train of thought.

“Wasn’t that already accomplished in your amendment to the conscription law?” Hubert asks, the curiosity in his voice genuine even as his fingertips began their descent over the front of Ferdinand’s shirt, skirting across his collarbones. The tiniest of frissons at the points of contact, even through the fabric.

“That was only the beginning,” Ferdinand corrects. “The first in an extensive multi-step process to return Hrym to its former glory.” He stiffens as a thumb traces a path down his sternum, stopping at his navel, then returning upwards and to the side, tracing the outline of his pec. The motion repeats with the opposite side. He forces an exhale. “Ideally, this will give the people of Hrym their freedom.”

“I sense a ‘but’ in there,” Hubert says, a hot puff of breath directly in his ear.

Ferdinand reaches for a piece of scrap parchment and begins recopying from his list of resources, recalculating estimates anew. Both of Hubert’s hands are moving up and down his torso now, so tantalizingly close to grabbing his chest, but dancing around it every time. “A territory, no, a _community_ , self-sustained save for the resources they have no choice but to import,” he explains. “But that relies on the assumption that the people of Hrym work actively to produce their own resources.”

“Ah,” Hubert breathes. “You fear the potential for laziness.”

Ferdinand shakes his head. “I fully believe they will be happier this way if they are working and growing for themselves, rather than by the Empire’s command,” he says firmly. “The issue is— _oh_ ,” and his words are cut off with a grunt as Hubert’s wide hands cup both of Ferdinand’s breasts at once, and squeeze.

“The issue is…?” Hubert is absolutely teasing him now, with both his words and his devilish actions.

The hands begin to knead at his chest, and Ferdinand swallows hard. The layer of fabric between those deft hands and his bare skin is not the issue here. “The issue is presenting the council with as much evidence as possible, enough detailed evaluations to convince them that it is—”

The remainder of the sentence dies in his throat, his breath stuttering out in a long rush, as Hubert’s index fingers each swirl around his nipples. Sparks shoot through him, down to a low throbbing at his groin, and Ferdinand grits his teeth together to help him reclaim his words.

But Hubert is relentless and wicked, slow circles drawing out the once soft nubs to a hard pucker, each brush sending a wave of arousal through him, voice low and smooth as silk in his ear. “Convince them of what?”

_Convince you to take off my shirt and touch me properly_.

“C-Convince them that it is a worthwhile, feasible endeavor,” Ferdinand finishes, blinking his penmanship back into clarity after that momentary haze. “That Hrym is the perfect area to test my theory, since any failures will only negatively impact my own funds, and not the Empire’s.”

Hubert gives a satisfied hum. “Perfectly safe, indeed. Consider me persuaded.” He nibbles at Ferdinand’s earlobe, while one hand skims upward and begins to work on his shirt buttons.

Relief at finally feeling those fingers slip beneath his shirt wars with the added tension they produce, the heightened sensation of skin on skin as Hubert teases his nipples with newfound vigor. Something in his gut coils up deliciously tight; this is when Ferdinand regrets his choice of tight-fitting pants.

Regardless, they are finally getting somewhere. They’re—

No. That’s not right.

(It’s so right, so close to what he wants. But not yet, not yet. He still needs to—)

“You are but one of several council members,” Ferdinand gasps out. “You know the Minister of Agriculture and the Minister of Finance will throw a fit when they see this.”

Hubert’s teeth work their way up his ear, and his body lets out an involuntary tremor. “They will throw a fit regardless,” he says around the shell, his tone as casual and conversational as ever while his index and middle fingers take turns flicking Ferdinand’s nipples. “I’m beginning to think your papers are not the issue here. It’s not about the data itself—more about how you can lure them to your side.”

Indeed, Ferdinand is trapped on a lure now, baited and hooked and reeled in by Hubert’s torturous ministrations with no escape in sight. Hubert is right: he has always considered himself an exemplary diplomat. It is precisely that skillset he will need to employ at the council meeting tomorrow afternoon, so that they will finally give in, so Ferdinand can surrender to Hubert’s touch that feels so, so good, for this delirious pleasure to curl around his groin and stroke until—

“Oh, Ferdie.” Hubert’s voice is husky as Ferdinand dimly realizes his fist is clenched around a snapped quill, and the other has fisted into crumpled paper. “Look at you, all riled up. Why, you’ve even stained your pants.”

Ferdinand blinks the spots out of his vision and looks down. Sure enough, there at the tip of the outline of his hardened cock against his trousers, is a steadily expanding damp spot.

Then Hubert pinches both of his nipples at once, and Ferdinand cries out, head thrown back as his hips buck up into nothing, the dull throb of his desire desperate for the friction he cannot grasp.

“ _Please_.” The word tumbles out of his mouth without his volition.

The fingers ease up and resume their gentle circles, and the new wave of arousal the motion sets off knocks all the breath out of him.

From this angle, Hubert shifts, bends over him and kisses the sweat pooling at his hairline. “Please what?” he asks. “Do you want to cum?”

“Yes,” Ferdinand moans, unable to stop now.

Hubert’s grin is downright sinister as he slows his movements, as Ferdinand aches with the frantic need for more. “But I thought you had to finish your work first. Or have you admitted the error in your ways? Have you agreed that you have earned your reprieve for the night?”

“Yes!” It comes out as a broken sob.

As if to reward his admission, Hubert picks up his speed once more. Ferdinand is on fire now, reeling as every contact to his nipples set his nerves alight, over and over, stoking the tight burn in his gut, begging for release.

“This feels so good, doesn’t it?” Hubert murmurs, and Ferdinand can only nod his agreement as his hips continue to rock blindly into nothing, as he arches into Hubert’s touch, chasing every inch, so close and yet so far.

Hubert persists, the brutal truth to his words undeniable. “Your nipples have always been so sensitive. You can come from this alone, can’t you? I don’t need to finger you open or fuck you or take your cock in my hand. I don’t even need to get you out of your clothes—I just need to tease your nipples just like so—”

A foreign scream is wrenched from deep within his throat and his body jerks violently as Ferdinand cums hard, untouched, pulse thundering in his ears. His climax crashes through him with the force of the most powerful undercurrents, and he is swept away, brain filled with nothing but white noise.

He settles gradually, trembling through the aftershocks, and becomes aware of the marvelous shadow looming over him, the warmth of plush lips against his, the faint taste of coffee on his tongue.

Ferdinand sighs into Hubert’s soft kisses, bringing his hands up to cover Hubert’s where they’re cradling his head. The tension is gone from his shoulders and back now; he can even feel it dissipating from his brow.

He doesn’t know how much time passes before Hubert pulls a hair’s breadth away. They gaze at each other; the combination of the afterglow and open adoration on Hubert’s face sends a flutter of fondness through his heart.

“Thank you,” Ferdinand says.

“Anything for you, sunlight,” says Hubert. Something in his expression shifts towards mocking. “Especially when you’ve been afflicted with a case of spending so much time on the same thing that you can no longer look at it rationally.”

Ferdinand frowns. “You do not know that.”

Hubert huffs an exasperated sigh. “Ferdinand. You’ve spent hours upon hours trying to draw up the best draft possible for your report. I guarantee you there is no benefit of continuing until you’ve had your rest, so that when you resume, it will be with a fresh pair of eyes.”

The realization of being bested by Hubert’s strategy probably would have hit him harder if not for the post-orgasmic haze, but as things are, it simply feels like a tap on the wrist. “You—”

Hubert brushes a sticky strand of hair out of Ferdinand’s face. “Rest tonight, and when you give it a final review in the morning, I’m sure you will find you’ve already made it as close to perfect as can be.”

Ferdinand sighs. “I suppose I cannot dispute that,” he allows. He pushes himself out of his chair, wincing as he feels the evidence of their activities trickle down his leg. Warmth floods his cheeks. “Ah. Well.”

Hubert raises his eyebrows and gives him a knowing smile. “I think it’s high time you permitted me to escort you back to our room,” he says.

Ferdinand pretends to think about it. “Well, it would be rather cruel of me if you went through all this effort for nothing, or if I did not return the favor, or—”

He stops the moment Hubert extends his arm expectantly, with perfect disregard for any further antics. Ferdinand beams and takes his hand.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on twitter [@nuanta_fic](https://twitter.com/nuanta_fic)


End file.
